


BOHICA Contingency Plan

by DustToDust



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3925888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a slew of strange things that come with being an Avenger, and Pietro doesn't always know about them ahead of time. How was he supposed to know sex pollen was a thing that existed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	BOHICA Contingency Plan

**Author's Note:**

> I am working my way through the cliches aren't I?

Pietro doesn't see what hits them,too busy elsewhere and it's only when he hears the Captain utter a soft, "Oh, fuck," that he knows things have gone bad. The order to evacuate comes soon after, and despite his protests Pietro doesn't fight it hard. He can feel that wrongness spreading when he gets on the plane that no one bothers to try to fly this time.

There's a thick silence that eats him up, and no one is looking at anyone else. The strain of something is evident in their faces, and Pietro turns to Wanda whose presence in his mind has gotten distant. She's a small ball on one of the seats. Face red and eyes closed like she's in pain though he can't feel it from her.

He moves towards her and she senses it. Her whole body jerks away from him and he can feel a sudden rush of panic that fills him with hurt as he stops at the rush of mental words, _No, no! Please, don't come near me! Don't touch me, not you!_

He recoils from her in horror and doesn't stop until his back is to a wall. Staring at his sister in mute pain he feels her retreat even further from him mentally. Only the lingering hint of her panic along with some guilt and regret sticking behind. 

It's a silent journey back to the Tower they claim as their home. A short one compared to some other calls they've gotten, and Pietro's past the hurt when they set down on the landing pad.

He's angry when the doors drop down and Wanda _runs_. Not at her but at whatever this is, and Pietro wants _answers_

"What is going on!" He rounds on Clint as the man barrels past him. Eyes on the floor just like everyone else.

"Don't, just don't," Clint mutters and swerves to avoid him. His voice tense and answers short.

The others are already gone, and Pietro's not interested in wasting his time finding them for his answers. He gets in front of the man again on the landing pad and grabs him by the arm when he swerves again. "Don't ignore me. What the hell is happening to my sister!"

"Don't," Clint repeats. His eyes pressed shut tightly and the muscled in his arm straining. Though if it's away or not Pietro can't tell.

He doesn't care either and pulls just as he moves forward. Getting in Clint's face with a snarl. "What is happening!?"

Clint's eyes are dark when they open. The pupils blown and Pietro distantly wonders how much of a concussion the man has before he's being grabbed and pulled. Away from the landing pad and inside where there's no trace of anyone even as Clint bypasses the elevators for the long hall of guest rooms.

He jerks to a sudden stop outside one. The door open and Pietro notices that all the others are closed only when they stop. Clint shudders and Pietro can feel the motion all the way through his arm. 

"Kid. Pietro," Clint's voice is ragged, and he's breathing hard like they ran the whole way. His eyes are shut again on a look of utter pain, his body leans towards the room but his hand doesn't budge from Pietro at all. "She'll be fine. Your sister. She, _we_ , just need to burn it out of our system."

"Burn what?" Pietro asks, anger a thin barrier between his confusion and dread.

"It's a drug, alright. Makes me- Makes us-" Clint's head turns slowly enough Pietro almost thinks he can hear each bone shift. His nostrils flare but he doesn't open his eyes and Pietro notices a slightly gold shimmer slanted across his face. His eyes are even darker if that were possible when he opens them reluctantly. They're bright with something when they lock on Pietro before slowly dropping. Looking him over blatantly. "Really, really fucking horny until we fuck it out of our system."

Clint lets go and Pietro reels from the revelation, and the drop of the man's voice. Clint's staring at him still and it's _hunger_ that's looking at him. Hunger and lust for Pietro that stuns him to silence as he gapes back at Clint who smiles tightly at him.

"It'll be fine by tomorrow. Got all that's needed here," Clint nods back to the room but his eyes don't leave Pietro even as he steps back into the room. Strain on his face as he backs away, fists clenched tight. Now his body is leaning back out, towards him, and Pietro feels ready to be consumed by the look he sees there. "Just don't go knocking on any doors if you don't want to get pulled into something you might not want."

The door clicks shut and Pietro's left in a hallway of shut doors. Mind reeling and not able to keep up for once.

He makes it to the kitchen before stopping.

Wanda is alright. She's fine, and he doesn't reach out for her. He's got enough of a sense of what she's going through as it is, and intruding more isn't something they do. Some things require privacy after all.

Pietro's thoughts are still filled with that last sight of Clint now though. Eyes intent, and holding himself back physically from reaching out to grab Pietro. To pull him into that room with him.

_Just don't go knocking on any doors if you don't want to get pulled into something you might not want._

Pietro swallows hard because he does, in fact, want. Has wanted for a long while, and there's a perfect opportunity going to waste just down the hall for Pietro to get a taste of a little of what he wants. 

His mind restarts itself and Pietro finds himself back in front of Clint's door again. He's never been any good at all in resisting temptation. He doesn't knock. The door knob twists under his hand and an invitation isn't needed.

Clint's already on the bed. Armor and boots kicked off. The tight leather of his pants is loosened, but the man clearly didn't get far in taking them off. His hand is shoved into them and moves in a way that becomes very obvious when Pietro realizes it shoved too far in to be going for his cock.

Groans fill the air as Pietro shuts the door behind him. Taking in the sight that gets him painfully hard immediately. Clint has one arm up over his head, braced against the headboard, and his eyes tightly shut. Imagining something, someone, and Pietro doesn't like the niggling thought that it might not be him the archer is thinking about. That the invitation he's sure was there might be something he imagined.

"What if I do want?" Pietro asks and likes the way Clint jerks at the sound of his voice. Eyes flying open and an even louder groan falling out as his lust blown eyes fix on him. "Would I be welcome at any door?"

Clint _growls_ and uncoils from the bed with a predatory grace. His hand coming out from his pants, and Pietro can see the slick shine of something on his fingers as he steps closer. Fingers that reach out and curl over the band of his pants to tug him forward until his knees bump against the bed. "You're not going to any other door but mine."

Pietro half falls and is half pulled down onto the bed, and into a searing kiss.

There's a taste that's strange on his lips, but Pietro doesn't have the chance to appreciate it as he's pulled down to lay flat out over Clint. Rough hands ruck his shirt up and Pietro groans at the feeling of the hands dragging against his skin. Not sure if he likes the hands on him or the noises Clint makes when Pietro sucks hard on the tongue pushing into his mouth.

Pietro takes advantage of the bared skin below him. Getting his own hands on muscles he's spent too much time staring at, and raking his nails down them lightly. 

"Oh, fuck," Clint breaks the kiss to moan brokenly. His breath pants out loudly between them as he arches up into the touch. " _Fuck me_. Pietro!"

Clint's eyes are bright and clouded over with lust as he responds to each touch and kiss as Pietro works his pants off. Slowly for once because Pietro can't drag himself away from the skin he's revealing. Can't look away from the hard cock leaking against Clint's stomach. Pearly drops coating his thick fingers when he reaches down to stroke himself. "Fuck, Pietro, I need to you inside me now."

Clint's desperate, and Pietro stares as the man reaches down again with his other hand. There's nothing in the way to stop him from seeing it this time when Clint pushes his still slick fingers into himself. His legs fall open and Pietro stands to fumble with his own clothes as two and then three thick fingers move in and out at an almost violent pace.

The other man's panting. Mouth open on those sinful moans as his half-lidded eyes stare straight at Pietro. Getting rid of his pants hurts, but the pain is easily forgotten when he kneels between Clint's spread legs. Feeling the heat of them as Clint's knees come in to encourage him closer.

" _Where's the lube?_ " Pietro asks stupidly because he can't tear his eyes away from Clint's face. Can't stop watching the pleasure ripple across it. It takes him a moment to realize he's not even speaking English and he repeats himself. "The lube. Where-"

A small bottle is slapped against his chest almost before Pietro begins to speak, and it doesn't even take a second to slick his own cock up. Using speed that would hurt anyone else, and Pietro has to concentrate afterwards to slow down. Because fast won't work as he leans down into a kiss that's demanding and ends with him being bitten hard. His cock rubbing against Clint as the man arches up and moves to get Pietro where he wants him. "Now!"

And who is Pietro to deny a request like that?

Clint opens up slowly around him. Tight and hot, his moans ecstatic as Pietro sinks all the way in one slow slide. Strong legs wrap around him immediately and Pietro stops to just breathe against the rush of pleasure. Clint's as desperate to be fucked as Pietro is to fuck him. The thought is heady and breaks what little is left of his mind. The little pieces that have been holding out with questions and doubts shattering as blunt nails dig into his back and a gruff voice demands, " _Move_."

Pietro obeys.

Oh.

_Yes!_

Pietro groans as a litany of curses fill his ears. Approving and begging all in two little words. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck! Yes, fuck!"

Clint kisses messily. More tongue and teeth than lip because they can't stop panting. Can't remember to breathe through their noses as Pietro gets an arm under Clint's back to angle him up for each thrust. The bed shuddering in time as the shift is enough to make Clint _scream_.

Pietro's cursing, low and constant. He doesn't know what language he's using, and it doesn't matter with Clint in his arms. On his tongue, in his ears...

"Faster," Clint growls, his cock trapped between them as he bucks up. Lips scraping down Pietro's neck, a hint of teeth making Pietro's eyes roll back a little as he does what he's asked immediately. Fucking into Clint faster and harder, maybe too fast but the sounds the other man is making are all pleasure as he goes tight around Pietro's cock.

Who comes first doesn't matter and Pietro couldn't tell if his life depended on it. He groans as the teasing teeth bite into him. His vision going blank the way it does when he pushes himself past his limits to go faster than he should, but the pain is agonizingly perfect.

Pietro swears he can feel his mind draining out of him as he slowly collapses on top of Clint. Too tired to care that his weight might be crushing him as he listens to the frantic beating of a heart. Clint's. His own. Maybe both of them.

The air is cool on his sweaty back, and Pietro shivers as it clears his mind a little. Bringing back the persistent doubts that he'd ignored. The ones that had whispered things about drugs. It intrudes on the pleasant lassitude he'd been feeling and Pietro tenses as he feels the chest under him expands with a deep breath.

Clint's voice is wrecked when he speaks, "How do you feel?"

"How do _I_ feel?" Pietro laughs sharply. He'd wanted a taste, and he got it. Just to figure out a single taste isn't going to be enough. Pietro still _wants_. It feels like there's broken glass in his chest now that he's thinking with his brain, and temptation isn't singing in his ears. Jagged edged shards ripping him open as he pushes up to look down at Clint. "I should be asking you that!"

He's too raw and too hurt to make a jest or a joke, but the eyes looking up at him are clear and lucid as they study him. And free of any kind of anger or unease. Pietro isn't sure if that's better or worse.

"Thirsty," Clint admits with a hoarse voice and Pietro pushes himself up further, half a thought to fixing that. His soft dick slipping out of Clint and making them both catch their breath though likely for very different reasons. "Hm, tired mostly though. Come on, let's get some sleep."

Pietro opens his mouth but no words come out as he hovers over the man who does look tired now. Not exhausted, just sleepy like any well fucked man would. "I don't-"

"Fuck that," a hand presses him down insistently and Pietro can't help but obey it. Even as his gut twists when a leg pins him in place, and an arm goes across his chest. "Sleep, we'll talk in the morning."

~

Pietro wakes feeling warm and comfortable. Utterly safe, and at peace with life in general. That lasts right up until he feels the calloused fingers pressed against his back and remembers. He's laying with his head on Clint's legs. The man himself is sitting up with his back to the headboard and flicking through his phone. He stops when Pietro moves. 

"Morning," Clint leans over to place the phone back on the bedside table. Careful not to move more than necessary. The fingers pressing against the back of Pietro's shoulders the only thing keeping him from bolting away. "So, Cap pointed out none of us ever got around to explaining the BOHICA contingency plan."

"The what?" Pietro asks when Clint pauses expectantly. Tensing despite the way the fingers have started rubbing soothing circles.

"It happens every once in a while. Stark calls it sex pollen, but it can be a chemical or even a mind whammie that does it. What it is doesn't matter so much, just the results," there's a trace of humor in Clint's voice and Pietro finds the strength in him to roll off the man. To scowl up at him. "So, yeah, the contingency plan is put in place to avoid awkward morning afters like this, or a really bad press revelation."

"Awkward," Pietro repeats in disbelief because awkward isn't the word he'd use exactly. Clint reads the clearly.

"We all know it's kind of- Yeah. Anyway, it doesn't have to mean anything," Clint says like he means to assure him. Those words are anything but reassuring though. The silence is loud and what he's feeling must show at least a little on his face despite Pietro's best efforts, because Clint sits up further and those fingers are back on his arm as he stares hard at Pietro. 

"Or it could," Clint sounds a little unsure for the first time. "Mean something. You know, if you wanted it to."

Clint trails off a little and there's the awkward. It's reassuring to see some of the doubt Pietro's been feeling finally make it's way to Clint. He fixes the man with a glare that makes him squirm a bit. "What is it that Stark is always saying? You owe me dinner first. Then we'll see."

Clint snorts and relaxes. Shoulder brushing against Pietro as he leans against him. His smile is crooked and pulls at Pietro's chest like usual as the fingers on his arm run down to circle his hand. "Yeah? How about breakfast instead? I can do some mean pancakes."

"That would be a start," Pietro tries to sound casual but the lean of Clint's body against him is distracting, and it takes him a brief moment to realize he doesn't need to hold back on the urge to kiss the man. Clint's lips are soft and part slightly before Pietro pulls away. Getting out of the bed and into the clothing he left on the floor before the man can blink, because otherwise they won't be leaving the room at all. Pietro smirks at the pout he gets for that. "But I still expect dinner."

The snorting laugh that follows him out is a nice sound to hear so early, and Pietro wonders if he's lucky enough to get to hear it every day now.


End file.
